Artichokes like Comets
I watch the rain from my window,
its lonely drops smacking the glass,
asking to come in and keep me company.
They beg to drip upon my face
and feel satisfied.
But, I cannot help to think of a hot day,
Under Palm Trees and feeling my own water
run along my back and the condensation of a glass
with fresh squeezed fruit or iced tea.
I can see the palm fronds blowing, moving
dancing, being free and open.
Not lonely, only confident.
I can remember my mother fanning me with one,
when I was a girl.
My sun drenched, sweaty face welcoming the draft.
It is rainy days like this,
that I miss my mother most.
My mother and her forever care of me and my siblings,
under the sun on a hot summer day.
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